The Significance of Going Outside
“There are more gray priests than there is work right now, and I might have a solution to that... Would you let gray priests work as waiters in a restaurant built for serving noble-inspired food to rich commoners?” I asked.
My question didn’t seem to surprise the High Priest; he must have remembered what we talked about in my chambers. “I imagine you would want gray priests who have worked as attendants to be your waiters.”
“Gray priests with attendant experience would be best since they’re especially good-mannered, polite, and hard-working, but even Gil does a decent job serving food. I think any gray priest here could be a great waiter after just a little training.”
Having one gray priest with attendant experience would be a big help, but they didn’t all have to have experience. Those raised in the orphanage were almost always polite and obedient, probably due to following the example set by attendants and blue priests, being taught that violence was wrong, and living a life of locked-up servitude from birth. It wouldn’t be too hard to train them into waiters if at least one of them had experience to draw from.
“...If training them into waiters would take so little time, why not train commoners from the lower city?”
“Whether or not someone has lived a life close to nobles makes a big difference here.”
Benno wouldn’t be worried about training waiters if it was that easy. Most servers in lower city eateries were prostitute waitresses. And although apprentice chefs worked as waiters when things got busy, serving was understood to be a low-difficulty job that didn’t demand much. If Benno began hiring servers, almost all of his applicants would be poor women stricken with poverty, no doubt about it. That would hurt the restaurant’s classy atmosphere. Just like Lutz had busted his back to develop better manners, each waitress would have to be educated from the ground up to completely change their behavior and manner of speaking.
“Benno owns a fairly high-class store, does he not? I would think his workers there would suffice.”
Out of Benno’s servants, the High Priest was familiar primarily with Mark. But Mark was on a higher level than most others in the Gilberta Company. And although the other employees were polite and well-mannered thanks to Mark’s training, using them wasn’t an option here. The lehanges working at Benno’s store were mostly the children of merchants who wanted to form connections with the Gilberta Company. Their job description involved clothing and paperwork, not serving food. They would fight back hard if we tried making them work as waiters.
“It is a matter of course that gray priests with attendant experience would be excellent servers, but would they be allowed to work with no supervision? Who would you propose to be their guardian? In addition, only a select few earning income outside the temple would lead to financial inequality even within the orphanage. Your thoughts on that?”
Benno could serve as the guardian for at least one of them, but I didn’t know about all of them at once. I also hadn’t thought at all about the financial inequality that would occur in the orphanage. “...I can’t answer those questions right away.”
“I would imagine so. These are not simple problems,” said the High Priest with a tone that made it clear this was something he had thought about long ago. The problems weren’t simple, but I knew he would never give his permission if I didn’t provide answers to them.
“I did not expect to get your permission immediately. I just wanted to hear your thoughts. And on that note, might I ask what you think about gray priests working outside the temple?”
The High Priest lowered his gaze in thought while tapping a finger against his forehead. “Hm. Well, I believe it will be difficult for them. As anyone could tell from looking at you, the culture of the outside world differs greatly from the temple. Do you think that gray priests could adjust so quickly to the lower city after living their entire lives here?”
Thinking back to the first time I took Fran and Gil outside of the temple, I slowly shook my head. “I think they would manage inside the restaurant, but outside of that...” When it came to serving wealthy customers in a restaurant designed to look like a noble mansion, the gray priests would need only act like they normally did. Even when it came to dealing with money, their experience with the Myne Workshop would probably help them handle the transactions just fine. But the second they stepped outside the restaurant, their life experience in the temple would start working against them in a big way.
“Furthermore, what will you do if the gray priests begin to wish for a life on the outside after they grow accustomed to it? Will you be able to provide that lifestyle for them?”
“That would be difficult, I think. I’m too young to be their guardian, and even if I asked Benno, he’d only be able to give them what he would give to a live-in apprentice. Living alone would be unbearably harsh for someone who has grown up with everything being given to them in the form of divine gifts.”
There wasn’t really a major food problem in the orphanage at the moment. Everyone did their chores and had enough food waiting for them at the end of the day. But outside of the temple they would need to make their own meals or eat out, and I doubted the priests used to eating food cooked for nobles would feel satisfied with the meals of the lower city. Not to mention that I was a little scared of sending the priests out on their own when they still struggled to understand the concept of money and how to use it. I could imagine it wouldn’t take long for some crook to scam them out of everything they had.
“Lastly—and this is the most important factor for me—what will the populace think of orphans being hired? Do you think they will be embraced, or rejected?”
“...More so the latter.” Judging by how my parents reacted to me joining the temple, it was hard to imagine people having a good impression of orphans or the temple. Their skill as waiters would no doubt be appreciated, but the prejudice they would face would probably be rough.
“Moreover, is it not possible that the difference in status between those working outside and the other gray priests will lead to some finding it uncomfortable to stay in the orphanage? I believe the friction that boy had with his family began after he changed his place of work, no?”
Different work meant different pay. The temple maintained equality between the grays, and bringing inequality to the orphanage would cause their way of life to break down. Things might get even worse than they did with Lutz’s family. And as the orphanage director, I would need to settle that chaos.
...That sounds scary. It was impossible to predict the chaos resulting from a sudden change. Being told that I would be responsible for something I couldn’t predict was honestly terrifying. The High Priest’s sharp gaze softened, as if he had seen through me and knew how scared I was.
“I believe there is no issue with them working in the Myne Workshop. As you said, they are earning profit and the conditions of the orphanage have vastly improved. I have heard that the children are much more lively than before thanks to their trips to the forest and the visits from merchants such as Benno. But there is a significant difference between them doing work inside the temple on the temple’s rules while making contact with the outside world, and working in the outside world under the outside’s rules.”
I nodded, and the High Priest’s expression showed that he was a bit relieved that I understood.
“Not to mention, even if Benno could be their guardian, I do not yet know Benno very well. I cannot make an informed decision as to whether he is more trustworthy than a laynoble purchasing gray priests as servants. I also do not know if a restaurant would be a suitable place for priests to work.”
“If you came to the restaurant during its initial test run, you could see with your own eyes just what kind of place it is,” I suggested to the High Priest with a smile. He shook his head with an exasperated look.
“I do not know what you are planning, but it is written on your face that you have ill intentions. Learn to hide your emotions better. But in any case, I am allowing merchants to enter the temple on their way to the Myne Workshop and I can permit you to expand the jobs done by gray priests, but as it stands I will not allow them to work outside.”
I had expected his rejection, so I didn’t feel too disappointed. Instead, I knew I just had to keep changing things here bit by bit until the High Priest changed his mind. “...Understood. I will work hard to ensure that you come to know Benno well by the time the restaurant is finished. And by I, I mean Benno.”
“You won’t work hard on that yourself?”
“Maybe a little, but there’s a mountain of things that need my attention more, so...”
The High Priest gave a short laugh. “Learning to behave as a noble certainly does come first,” he said.
Sorry, but I’m prioritizing the picture books for my soon-to-be-born little sibling.
“...And that’s why he won’t let priests work outside the temple.”
The day after my lunch with the High Priest, I gave a report to Benno in his store like I always did. I told him what I noticed during my meal with a noble, then explained why he wouldn’t let the priests work outside.
“Figures,” Benno murmured, apparently having expected as much. “But hey, since we can go into the workshop, how about you include training waiters in their workshop duties?”
“Mmm, that might be a good thing to do during the winter when we can’t make paper. Though that would get in the way of them doing winter handiwork.” Winter was a season that demanded a significant amount of firewood and food. Since we couldn’t gather much in the forest, we would need to buy most of it. Winter handiwork was valuable since you could both kill time and make money while blocked in by the snow.
“What kinda handiwork?”
“I was planning to make a variety of toys. I would like to order a lot of boards from a carpentry workshop, but all the ones you know are busy with orders for the restaurant, right? Could you introduce me to another workshop?”
I didn’t want to delay the restaurant’s opening even further. It might have been normal in this world, but to me it just felt like walking into failure. Benno grimaced when I suggested he introduce me to another workshop, but I didn’t want my own order to be put off for months. I wanted to give my order to a workshop that would get it done for sure.
“I need it to be delivered before winter starts. If it’s that hard for you to introduce me to a workshop from your network of associates, I can just find someone else to do it.”
“That ‘someone else’ would be Freida, yeah? Not a chance.” I thought for sure Freida would know workshops Benno didn’t, but he rejected my idea before I even said her name. “...Fine, alright. I’ll talk to the foreman of the workshop I go to about introducing you to someone.”
“In that case, let’s go to an ink workshop first. I want ink. Or rather, the boards will be useless without ink.” I emphasized my need for ink until Benno scratched his head and stood up, looking annoyed. He then picked me up and strode out of his office.
“Mark, I’m gonna go to the ink and carpentry workshops with Myne. Lutz, come with us.”
“Understood, Master Benno.”
When we arrived at the ink store, me traveling in Benno’s arms, I checked the prices of the ink bottles lined up on a shelf and felt my head spin from how expensive they were.
“Do you have any other ink?”
“This is all we sell here. If you really want to know about ink, try going to the workshop directly.” As I hung my head in disappointment, Benno asked for the location of the ink workshop and off we went to craftsman’s alley. The sharp scent of various chemicals pierced my nose when we arrived. Benno set me down and I walked into the workshop myself.
“...Not often that customers come here themselves. What’s your business?” Only rich people who could read and write needed ink, so they always ordered what they wanted at stores without bothering to deal with the workshop. None of them wanted to visit a store with such an overwhelming smell. The foreman, whose face and clothes were dotted with black ink stains, narrowed his eyes and looked us over suspiciously. He seemed a bit high strung, maybe because his job involved precise extraction of pigments and careful mixing.
“Um, I would like to know what kinds of ink you make here.”
The foreman’s furrowed brow managed to furrow further as he looked down at me.
“How do you make your ink?” I asked.
“Sorry, but that’s a trade secret,” he snorted, clearly having no intention of answering. I hurriedly continued, since it looked like he was on the verge of ending the conversation.
“I don’t want to know the method, I just want to know what kind of ink it is. Is it (iron gall) ink, is it sticky (lampblack) ink...? That’s all I want to know.”
“...Huh? What’re you talking about?” The foreman didn’t understand me at all since I didn’t know the names of this world’s ink varieties. I desperately tried to think of ways to describe the kinds of ink I knew.
“Umm, how many different kinds of ink do you make here?”
“Ink is ink. That’s all there is.” The foreman shook his head as if I had asked the dumbest question in the world.
“Okay, I’ll describe different ways to make ink and you can tell me which sounds familiar to you.”
He closed his eyes with annoyance to think about it, then nodded. I figured they were probably making iron gall ink, so I described how to make that as simply as I could.
“Harvest natural dyes from plant gall, ferment it, mix in (ferric ions)... I mean, iron salts, then take plant fibe—”
“That’s it! How do you know that?!” The foreman gasped and dropped his annoyed expression to lean forward towards me. His sudden intensity made me hide behind Benno.
“I don’t know what to tell you except that I learned about it because I was interested. You don’t make any other kinds of ink, do you?”
“...There are other kinds of ink?” Judging by the piercing look in his eyes, it was likely that he really did only know about iron gall ink. I slumped my shoulders and shook my head, unable to hide my disappointment.
“Nevermind, it’s fine. It would be better to buy ink at a store than order it here, right?”
The foreman crossed his arms, thought about something, then nodded. “Yeah. If you’re just buying, the store’s the better place to go. And... girl, what’s your name?”
“I’m Benno of the Gilberta Company, her guardian. Bring any questions to me. Later.” Benno put a hand on my mouth to stop me from answering, then lifted me up and turned around.
I could see the foreman looking straight at us as Benno walked away. “...The Gilberta Company, huh? Alright.”
The second we were out of the workshop, Benno flipped his lid. “What were you thinking in there?!”
“Bwuh? I was just seeing what kind of ink they made.”
“Couldn’t you be a little more subtle...? Actually, probably not, I guess.”
I had thought I was just having a peaceful discussion with the ink workshop, but to Benno it apparently looked like I was picking a fight or something. But what else could I have done? I didn’t know what kind of ink they made. It was hard to think they would understand me if I said India ink or printing ink or anything like that.
“I guessed it the second he said they only make one kind of ink, but it looks like they’re making (iron gall) ink. That’s a shame.”
Iron gall ink was the kind of ink commonly used in Rome, medieval Europe, and so on prior to the invention of modern ink. It was widely used thanks to its durability, water resistance, and simple manufacturing process. One important factor was that, unlike India ink, it stuck to parchment and wouldn’t vanish if you rubbed it or washed it. But since it included acidic components, the dried ink would start eating the writing surface away. Plant paper decomposed faster than parchment, and sometimes the paper would end up covered in holes by the end of the decade.
That would be a problem for a picture book I intended to make for a child who wasn’t even born yet. Fire-resistant trombe paper would probably resist the corrosion, but that would run such an enormous cost that it wasn’t really worth considering.
“Maybe I should just make the ink myself?” Iron gall ink might work if I used something to neutralize the acidity, but that would be picking a fight with the vested interests again. It would be better for me to just develop a different kind of ink entirely.
“Huh? You’re gonna pick a fight with the Ink Guild head-on?”
“Why do you look so excited, Benno? I’m not trying to start any fights. I would have let things end here if I could just buy the kind of ink I want, and now I’m feeling annoyed that I have to make it myself. I don’t like conflict.”
Benno gave a bored snort at my protests and started walking. I started to think out loud while bouncing in his arms. “(India) ink might be good for plant paper. But I would want something more sticky for woodcuts. Oh, wait a second. I think I saw ancient (Chinese) woodcuts in a (museum) once, so maybe (India) ink will work? Or should I just go all the way and make (oil paint)? (Crayons) smear when you rub them, so I don’t think they would be too good for woodcuts or picture books.”
I had made iron gall ink, oil paint, and crayons with my mom back in my Urano days, but all of them used ingredients we just bought in a store. It would be a lot harder to get the equipment and materials we needed here. ...I’m pretty sure we hardened the crayons in lipstick cases. I would want an airtight container for the paint, but what could I use for that?
“Uh. Lutz. What the hell is Myne saying?”
“She’s just saying what she’s thinking. You can just ignore her. She’ll be stuck like this until she settles on an answer.”
No matter what method I chose, getting the pigments would be difficult. I would probably have to gather soot again, just like I had to do for the soot pens. But unlike before, I could buy animal hide glue and wax. It was much easier to get materials now than when I didn’t even have the money to buy a single nail. Making ink now would be much, much easier than it would have been back then.
“Hey, Lutz. I’m guessing you won’t really understand what I need for this unless we go ahead and start making prototypes like we did with the paper, right?” I leaned over Benno’s shoulder to talk to Lutz, and he shrugged.
“...Made your decision, then? What kind of ink are you gonna make?”
“Every kind that might be good with woodcuts. I’ll make my picture books with whatever ink works the best.” My reply made Lutz shake his head with exasperation.
“You still haven’t given up on picture books?”
“They’ll be my first gift to the baby as his older sister. How could I give up on them?”
“Figures. Things were finally calming down at the Myne Workshop, but I guess it’s back to being busy.” Lutz looked exasperated, but at the same time was grinning with eager excitement.
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